Friction Is Our Friend
by VanessaGalore
Summary: There's a boat, and there are knots. Logan does it with a tree. Oh yeah...Veronica's there too. A 'Shipwrecked' fic.


**TITLE:** Friction Is Our Friend  
**AUTHOR:** vanessagalore  
**CHARACTERS:** Veronica/Logan.  
**WORD COUNT:** 6285**  
RATING:** NC-17  
**SUMMARY:** There's a boat, and there are knots. Logan does it with a tree. Oh yeah...Veronica's there too. Angsty romance with, of course, smut. This takes place during the summer between season 2 and 3, several weeks after Veronica returns from her trip to New York City. Written for the Shipwrecked!Love challenge gogetembobcat on livejournal.  
**SPOILERS:** All of Seasons 1 and 2 of Veronica Mars.  
**WARNINGS:** Cursing, graphic sex.  
**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own any rights to Veronica Mars. This story is written as a tribute only. Beta'd by Kazy and poniesforall . All errors are my responsibility. 

He catches her staring into space at times. Everything's normal: very normal, as long as you never talk about the boy _kidwhotaggedaftermeandDick_ who raped her, tried to kill her, then had the good sense to throw himself off the roof. When she returns from New York with her dad–celebrating her graduation, but really celebrating 'not on the plane'–she smiles too much; her laugh is just a little too high-pitched, and it breaks his heart. _Myfault myfault myjobtoprotecther_

She won't talk about it, won't even discuss it. When Stewart Manning sues the Casablancas family, she reads the news story but doesn't comment. And something is wrong between her and Keith: Logan knows it has to do with Kendall _bitch_ appearing at Keith's office, delaying Keith on their trip to New York.

When he thinks about Kendall, his stomach inverts itself into a mass of writhing regret and guilt. He can't really remember the rest of the night after he told Veronica they were epic; he just knows there were several bottles of champagne and later tequila shots and a bong being passed around. He recalls compulsively checking the room to see if Veronica had changed her mind, if she had returned to finish their conversation, _wanted to kiss her, ached to touch her, please..._ At one point that night, he went to the bathroom and pounded his fist on the tiles in frustration, then returned to the party, laughing and joking as if his life hadn't just ended. That's when he really began to drink, to lap up the alcohol as if it would somehow cure this, somehow change the way things were.

They never speak of it.

-----

He scares her. He's always scared her. He attracts and repels. She knows the excitement she feels when she's around him is _wrong_, love is supposed to be safe and comfortable, not frightening and intense. Still she can't stay away: she is grateful, no, she is beholden to him, her savior three times over now. She finds herself laughing too much, giggling at the wrong times, unable to respond to the normal cues of conversation. People are staring at her. She averts her eyes and tries to appear normal. She holds hands and flirts with Logan, but it's all an act: the real Veronica is completely dead inside.

When her dad leaves town, even on the most mundane skip-trace, she clings to him, wanting to beg him not to go, don't ever go, _let's find a new family business._ The terror she felt at the airport, _something happened, why isn't he here, has there been an accident,_ has subtly changed their relationship so that now she is the parent worrying. When he does pursue a bail jumper, she compulsively researches every aspect of the case, trying to protect him.

Logan sees her. He knows these things about her, and oh-my-god she needs him, but his patience and understanding are suffocating her. She doesn't want someone to see her so clearly. She doesn't like him knowing exactly how she is damaged.

-----

When Keith leaves town for a few days, Logan proposes a trip, a getaway. She is unenthusiastic, but he persists. When she learns it is to be a boat trip to Catalina, he knows that she too is remembering their unconsummated presumptive first date. He explains that he is selling the boat; this is to be its final voyage for the Echolls clan.

"A three hour tour?" she says, attempting wit.

He tells her about the remote cove where he plans to anchor with her. Logan has used his family connections to secure an anchorage away from the summer crowds. They will have a private beach to themselves. He gently teases that they won't even need their bathing suits.

She realizes he will try to make love to her there, and she tenses, but decides after all that she is ready to try _try try try again_ and finally agrees to the vacation.

That night, she dreams of him caressing her, kissing her on that place on her neck that he has claimed as his own. Oh-so-lovely, but when she looks behind her, she sees Cassidy mocking them, making kissy-faces and rude gestures. She wakes up, clammy, sweating. _So this is what they mean by night terrors._

-----

Logan is relieved when she agrees to the Catalina trip. He thinks that she needs a change of scenery and a break from the intensity and insanity that is Neptune; if he's honest with himself, he realizes that he needs to get away too.

Logan can't help the fantasies of making love to her that overwhelm him every time he closes his eyes, yet he knows that she is not ready to take the next step. He is worried that Veronica will always be scared of being alone with a man, and he wants to make her feel safe and protected. Maybe the solitude will be good for her; maybe she can relax and do whatever feels right for her. And he will be patient and let her call the shots. They have all the time in the world to be together.

-----

When they arrive in Catalina, Logan announces that they need to stop in the main harbor in Avalon for some supplies he neglected to purchase in Neptune. He motions to the fenders lying on the deck and asks Veronica to help secure them to the port side for docking. She hesitates, not wanting to admit she doesn't know how to do it, and she just barely understands that fenders are cushions for the side of the vessel. She stands, rocking with the motion of the boat, picks up a soft white plastic fender and tries to knot it to the rail.

Logan notices her struggling and comes over; he demonstrates the clove hitch knot and watches as she tries it twice and finally gets it.

He says, "That's it. The rope uses friction to hold the knot in place. Just remember, friction is our friend, chafe is our enemy." He makes a smarmy face at her, not even hoping for a reaction.

She looks at him, and then she laughs–the first real laugh he's heard from her since the roof. He grins and plants a kiss on her head. _Maybe.  
_  
-----

When they go ashore, she feels as if they dropped into a 'Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous' episode. Logan moves comfortably among these people with their expensive boat shoes and monogrammed sweaters thrown over their shoulder. She hears a man talking about Newport with that odd Northeastern accent that is the hallmark of expensive boarding schools and old, old money. Nearby, a young couple is discussing their recent vacation in the south of France. Logan may not feel a kinship to these people, but he was born to live among them. She feels a little shabby, maybe even ashamed, in her Target jeans and Converse sneakers. Logan notices her frown and takes her hand with a questioning gaze; she puts her laughing-Veronica mask back on and smiles up at him.

-----

They motor the boat to the mooring, and after he ties the mooring line, he has her help him with the hawser, a rope, or actually 'line' as he explains, that attaches to a weight that will secure the stern of the boat. He shows her how to attach the line to the deck cleat with a cleat hitch.

"Why does everything have to have a different name? Line instead of rope, port, starboard, hawser, _head!?_" she gripes.

"Didn't you tell me that Duncan used to take you sailing? He was trying to teach you how to sail, right?"

"I wasn't a very good student because apparently I'm not good at taking orders. I kept flipping the boat over because I pushed the steering thing, I mean, the _tiller,_ the wrong way."

"Maybe we should work on that. Taking orders, I mean."

"Aye, aye, cap'n. Just...don't make me walk the plank."

"I think you're thinking of 'waxing my board'. Different wood altogether," he snarks back.

Suddenly they both remember Woody.

Veronica thinks 'mr. goodwood' and feels nauseous.

Logan remembers the bastard feeling him up and saying, "Betcha have fun with the ladies." _The ones that survive, you son-of-a-bitch-cocksucking-MOTHERFUCKER._

They stare at each other for a moment, afraid to speak.

Finally she says, "Show me another knot, sailor-boy," trying to sound lighthearted.

Logan teaches her how to make a bowline. "You say, bo-linn, but it's spelled b-o-w-l-i-n-e. Look, 'the rabbit comes out of his hole, goes around the tree, and hops back into his hole.'" He demonstrates how to make a loop in the line, then use the other end of the rope to weave around and under itself to make a knot.

She rolls her eyes. "The rabbit?"

"Yeah, look." He demonstrates again. "It's easy."

She watches a couple more times and tries until she gets it. "Okay, the rabbit is dumb. How about this: it's under the under, over the over, under the under, and over the over." She shows him what she means: go under the part of the loop that's underneath, go over the part that's on top, go around and do it again. _Maybe I'm not a moron at this after all...stupid rich people with their stupid rich things, and their ridiculous secret boat words._

"That's great," he replies with admiration. "That's a great way to remember it. A lot of people can never figure out this knot. Under-the-under, that's so smart. My girl is so smart." He reaches to her and pushes a stray lock of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

She flushes, and he knows he said something wrong.

"Veronica?" he says quietly. "I just meant–"

"I know what you meant. It's okay." She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. He catches her face with his hand as she tries to move away and presses his lips to hers. For a moment, he panics, as she fails to respond. Then suddenly, she stands and moves to sit on his lap, kissing him desperately, frantically.

"Veronica, it's okay, it's okay," he murmurs, as he kisses her all over. "Whatever you need, whatever you want..." He feels himself beginning to respond to her proximity, and he cautiously shifts her weight away from his burgeoning erection. He curses his body's traitorous desires; _damn damn damn don't scare her away._ He is frightened to see tears streaming down her face, and he tries to kiss them away.

-----

He has suggested they sleep on deck. Veronica isn't sure she wants to, but when she sees the surreal beauty of the stars, she agrees and helps him spread out a couple sleeping bags. She lays back against the pillows and watches the stars oscillate above them, knowing it's really the gentle rocking of the boat underneath them, but still allowing herself to get lost in the gentle movement of the heavens. The slight vertigo intoxicates her, and they lay there together, just being, just existing, until they fall asleep, holding hands.

-----

They spend the next day on their private beach. Miles away from the nearest hiking trail, they could certainly sunbathe in the nude, but they don't; Logan wonders if she ever fulfilled her desire to go skinny-dipping. She lays on the sand, baking. He asks her if she'd like him to put lotion on her back, and she agrees, "Mmmm."

He warms the lotion between his palms, then begins to stroke her back and shoulders. _Careful, Logan, keep your hands where you can see them at all times,_ he thinks, but damn! it's difficult not to slip his finger under the waistband of that tiny suit. As he applies more lotion to her upper thighs, he thinks (imagines?) he hears her moan, and he is rock-hard before he can take a breath. He quickly finishes her legs, and before she can say a word he wades into the ocean to cool off and think.

-----

She sits up and turns to look at him in the water. Logan is swimming back and forth across the water of their private bay, with the boat tied at the mooring serving as a backdrop. It felt so good, so right, when he was massaging her with the lotion, but he pulled back, again. She doesn't want to be aroused by him: he knows exactly how damaged she is _dirty diseased violated wanna-be-killer._ But maybe he's just what she needs; he's just as damaged and fucked-up as she is.

When he lays back down on the beach with her, she asks him, "Do you ever think about him?"

At first he is confused. _Beaver?_ Then he realizes she means his father.

"Yes," he admits.

_Now that's a mood-killer,_ she thinks with perverse satisfaction.

After a flash of anger, he knows...and forgives her.

-----

They fall asleep, drowsy after a day in the sun and several beers. In his sleep, he has thrown his arm over her shoulders, and her body has betrayed her by snuggling against him.

She wakes up and looks out at the sun setting over the bay. "Logan?" she says, poking him in the shoulder. "Logan! Where's the boat?" She shakes him awake.

He looks at the bay in confusion. They drag the dinghy into the water and row the seventy-five feet to where they had been moored. Logan dives down into the water and eventually finds the stern hawser floating free, frayed at the point where it separated. The boat has dragged the mooring with it when the tide went out, and neither can be seen.

"The stern line let go. It looks like it was damaged already," he says, hoisting himself over the side of the dinghy.

"What do we do?" she asks.

"I'm thinking we should get busy and repopulate the earth," he replies without thinking, distracted by their situation. He realizes what he said and looks over, "Sorry."

After a moment, she responds, "I wish...I wish it was easy for us."

"I thought we already discussed that; it can't ever be easy for us. Nothing worth having is easy, and all that," he says brusquely. "Veronica, it's too late to try to row or hike anywhere tonight. I think we should just stay put. We'll be fine here. There's still ice in the cooler, so we have water to drink. If the Coast Guard finds the boat drifting, they'll find us by using the boat's registration. The Harbor Patrol knows where we are. If no one comes by morning, we can decide whether we want to try to hike or row to get help."

-----

Logan finds a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in a small locker on the dinghy, and he sets about making a fire. Veronica helps him gather what driftwood she can find, and they soon have a respectable fire going.

"I'm sorry," she says simply.

He glances at her.

"I was pushing you away again," she adds.

He waits for her in silence.

"I do want to be with you," she says in a small voice.

"I'm trying to be patient. But, damn, Veronica, it's hard, when I'm so close to you and you're so...fucking beautiful and sexy and...shit."

"You're too goddamned patient!" she shoots back. "I can't take the pressure!"

He stares at her, stunned. "Do you want me to ravage you, Veronica? Do you want me to hold you down and fuck you?"

"Maybe," she admits.

"Well, I won't do it. I've hurt you enough. You've been hurt enough." He stalks off and pretends to be gathering wood for the fire.

-----

Logan plays with the fire, poking with a stick until he gets it to flame up satisfactorily.

Veronica takes a breath and says, "I've gone over every conversation I had with Beav– Cassidy this year. I've been trying to figure out how he could just say such normal things to me, after he–"

Logan looks at her and says, "I had a few conversations with him myself, including when you and I were dating last summer. He never said, 'Gee, by the way, that was me who hurt your girlfriend.'" He can't bring himself to say 'raped', but Veronica flinches just the same.

"I should have known, whenever I was with him. He hired me; we were sitting together in a public restaurant; how could he just be...normal after doing that to me? He said, 'They could be doing anything behind that door.' How could he pretend to be so fucking naive?" Veronica's voice rises in anger, as she gets more agitated. "He was a monster. How could he go from that to 'I don't want your DNA all over my shirt?'"

He pulls her onto his lap and rocks her, murmuring, "Shhh, you couldn't have known, no one knew, he fooled everyone."

-----

He thinks she's asleep on his lap, and he gently places her beside him on the beach towel, hoping she won't wake up after crying herself to sleep. Her eyes open, and she reaches for his face, touching him, pulling him to her. She whispers, "Please...make love to me. Will you please...Logan? I want you to make love to me."

He is scared to death, but she is completely sober and seems certain this is what she wants. So he kneels over her and kisses the stains of her tears from her face. When he brushes his lips against her eyelashes, they flutter against his mouth like butterfly wings, fragile and delicate. He puts his forearms on either side of her head, carefully keeping his body's weight off her, making sure not to trap her, giving her the freedom to push him away if she changes her mind.

She feels him trailing his lips down the side of her face, softer than she remembers ever being kissed before. When he follows her jawline to the corner of her mouth, she notices just the tentative tip of his tongue exploring her lips, and she turns a little to him, parting her lips in invitation. He gently licks her upper lip, as if exploring her for the first time and wanting to memorize each bit of new territory, then he presses his lips almost chastely to hers, lingering and tasting. She fleetingly thinks of the innocent first kisses she shared with Duncan, but realizes these are not naive kisses; these have the promise of the sacred and profane, and the illicit thrill of the abandonment of pretense and barrier.

He pulls back to look at her, and she says nervously, "What's the matter?" _What's the matter with me?_

Logan thinks, _Fuck! This is all wrong–I shouldn't be on top of her._ He sits up and tries desperately to salvage the situation. "Roll on your side. Okay?" She is a little puzzled by his request but complies. He breathes a sigh of relief and lays down on his side, facing her. "That's better. You're in charge here, okay?" He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand, and she understands, suddenly feeling a calmness that's unfamiliar. Logan leans to her again and resumes kissing her gently, caressing her face with his fingers, mapping out the planes and curves of her topography.

She slides a little closer, and Logan knows if she comes any closer she'll feel his intense arousal. He runs his hand down her side, stroking her hip delicately. When he kisses her again, she thrusts her tongue into his mouth, and he has to suppress every animal instinct not to throw her onto her back and cover her with his heat and longing. He allows himself to groan, "Veronica...god, what you do to me," and he feels her grinning wickedly under his mouth.

"Good," she murmurs back and presses the length of herself against him, forcing him over onto his back and then laying on top of him. He puts his arms around her, trying desperately not to thrust against her, even though he is aching with the need for contact; but she writhes against him, laughing lightly at his discomfiture, and he moans, overjoyed to hear her easy chuckle.

"When are you going to take my top off? Or is it too much of a challenge for you?" she asks.

"I thought you were never going to ask," he replies, reaching around to undo the clasp. "Fuck, you're so beautiful, Veronica."

Logan gently touches her breast, and she whispers in his ear, "Play with my breasts...please, the way you used to; god I've missed you." He circles her nipple with the pad of his thumb, and she presses harder into him, forcing him to make contact as she breathes out, "Ahhh." _We're just playing here; it's not life or death._ Logan delicately strokes the tip of her nipple with the end of his thumb, flicking and teasing, then gently rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making her cry out loud. He pulls her up his body a little so that he can take her other breast into his mouth, and he laps and sucks on her, as she pants into his ear, "God, Logan, oh, god, don't EVER stop." _That's what you're supposed to say, right?_

She suddenly makes a decision and rolls off him, and he asks, "Veronica?"

She replies, "Take your shorts off," standing up and pulling off her bathing suit bottom.

"Yes, ma'am!" he says, saluting insolently. As he pulls off his trunks, he watches her wriggle out of her suit, displaying her pussy for him.

"Don't be a jackass," she replies, playing her part like she's undercover and her life depends on it; she gasps as he sits up and kisses the blond curls between her legs.

"Do you want me to stop?" he says quickly, stroking her hip.

"N-n-no...it's okay," she says hesitantly.

"So beautiful," he marvels, pulling her close and breathing her in. He tentatively swipes his tongue against her slit, tasting her wetness.

"Logan, you don't have to," she says, embarrassed.

"Oh yes, I do, you don't know how I've wanted to lick you like this," he replies, fluttering his tongue against her opening. She sags a little at the knees, and he grabs her hips to support her as he flicks his tongue against her clit. He pulls away, and she looks down suddenly wondering why he is stopping. "Veronica, come back down here," he says, pulling on her hips, urging her to rejoin him on the towel. He eases her down onto her back, then straddles her and leans over, whispering in her ear, "Is this okay?" She nods, not wanting to admit how nervous she is, and he kisses her mouth thoroughly, inundating her with his tongue. She tastes her arousal on him and blushes, pulling back a little. He notices her hesitation and tells her, "You taste incredible...god, I've wanted to..." The words fail him and he kisses down her body.

He looks up, and she has her eyes closed, but she smiles, _holy fuck, she is grinning,_ and he goes for it.

-----

When Logan begins to lick her, she begins to lose her breath; it escapes her, and she begins to drown in the air, as if she suddenly forgot how to draw oxygen into her body. Her entire consciousness becomes centered on his tongue's assault on her. He pulls her down to the beach and kisses her mouth, and she is embarassed by her taste. _ Oh god. _ But she makes herself smile; _I'm supposed to be enjoying this, this is as good as it gets, I'm a lucky girl._ She forces herself to breathe and relax and stay.

He gently pushes her legs apart and bends his face to her, licking and sucking while he thumbs her clit. She tenses momentarily and then consciously yields to him as he teases and flits against her.

When she thinks that he has surely shown her everything in his bag of tricks, he plunges two fingers in her pussy. She moans as he finger-fucks her _I didn't know it could be I didn't think oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod_ and she trembles, clenches, thrusts against him. _I hope I'm doing it right,_ she thinks. She forces herself to remain open for him. He bends again to her and begins to plunge his tongue into her opening, enthusiastically and deliberately, and suddenly it's just too much.

"Logan, no...stop!"

He looks up, stunned. He was sure, he was positive she was loving this; _what?? what?? _"Veronica?"

"Please, Logan, please stop..." she says, and she actually scrambles away from him. He reaches to touch her, and she flinches. _She's afraid of me, oh god, what have I done?_

He stands up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Veronica, what..." He ruffles his hair in confusion, then bangs his fist on his thigh, muttering, "Shit!" He grabs his shorts from the beach and quickly steps into them as he walks away.

-----

Veronica pulls the towel around her and draws her knees to her chest. She looks out at the beautiful bay and the clear darkness of the star-filled sky as a solitary tear travels down her cheek.

-----

When Logan has walked a short distance away, he leans against a tree and pulls his cock out; he was incredibly excited by her, completely enthralled by what he thought was her response to him, and now he is primed for action. He gently strokes himself, ashamed of his needs, but he is unable to ignore the necessity to do something about his painful tumescence.

He tries to erase her "no" from his memory and rewrites an imaginary ending to their lovemaking: she is begging him to make love to her, telling him she loves him, swearing she will never leave him. He pulls on himself violently, trying to make his imaginings the truth.

"Logan? I'm sorry–" Behind him, Veronica gasps, as she realizes what he is doing, and whirls around to run back to the beach.

"Damn it!" he swears. Logan quickly finishes and tries to regain his composure. He closes his eyes, wishing, conjuring a vision of Veronica: a Veronica who is calm and coherent; a Veronica who wasn't publicly disassembled by a defense attorney; a Veronica who wasn't forced to reexamine her rape just as she began to heal; a Veronica who wasn't scared to death that her dad had almost been killed.

He wants to pummel someone for what has happened to Veronica. When he made the connection between Veronica's questions about Duncan's sexual activities and the revelation of Veronica's STD at the trial, he wanted to hire private detectives to find Duncan and beat the living shit out of him. But when the truth came out...there was no one left to beat into the ground. Beaver...dead. Woody, the evil instigator of a long trail of unhappiness and sin...dead. His own father...dead. The rage simmers with no one as its focus. How can he avenge her when none of the villains are left?

He turns around and looks toward the beach and sees Veronica, curled into a tight ball, with the towel wrapped around her again. He doesn't know what to do and stands there uncertainly for long minutes while he tries to think. Finally, with no other possibilities left, he puts one foot in front of the other until he is standing behind her. "Veronica?"

She turns to look at him, and his heart breaks to see that she has been crying again.

"Can I sit with you?"

She nods, and he takes his place beside her on the sand. He sits a little distance away from her. She surprises him by moving next to him and leaning onto him. Flummoxed, he puts his arm around her. _She's not mad at me._

She continues, "I want to so much, and you make me feel so...incredible, but..." She just can't tell him that she keeps picturing Beaver, exploring her body, poking around, trying different things. "Just hold me."

-----

She drags him into the ocean a short time later; normally, he would complain about her bossiness, but he is so relieved to see a small smile on her face that right now he would do anything for her. When they swim out into the water, she wraps herself around him, and they let themselves be buffeted by the waves and the darkness. They hold onto each other in the ocean and sway together with the motion.

She whispers into his ear, "I want to try again. Please, Logan..."

He tentatively kisses her, and she molds herself to him tighter and kisses him back, not with passion but with trust. "You don't have to, Veronica."

"Please...I want to," she repeats.

He carries her out of the water; it always surprises him what a little thing she is when she's such a force of nature. He always expects her to be weighty and substantial, but she's tiny and fragile, and it's easy to carry her in his arms and set her down gently on the beach towel. He sits down beside her and waits for her cue.

She lays down on her side facing him, and he mimics her pose, carefully keeping a small distance between their bodies. Unbidden, his body is responding to her proximity and the sight of her naked body, and when she reaches a hand to caress his hip, she brushes against him and gasps at his hardness.

"Veronica, I'm sorry...I've just...I've been dreaming about being with you for four years; I can't help myself, I get excited when I'm this close to you," he tries to explain.

"I didn't...I didn't know," she whispers. "I mean...oh hell." She kisses him, and he uses every bit of resolve to keep it gentle, although his body is screaming at him, _take her, take her._ She takes his hand and puts it on her breast, and he gently palms her. She sighs a little and kisses him a little harder, and he lets his impatient tongue flick gently against her lips. She parts her lips, inviting him in, and just this small sign of intimacy is enough to make him groan with happiness. Logan cups her breast, and she leans into his hand, pressing for more, panting a little against his mouth. His tongue tentatively probes her mouth, and he shudders with the stress of his restraint as he feels her respond.

She presses herself fully against him and reaches for the waistband of his swim trunks. Logan tries to think of anything but those hands on his ass as she pulls the shorts down again to reveal the evidence of his too-long-delayed passion. "Hold me," she asks, and he reaches for her, drawing her close, letting his body feel every inch of her. He kisses her again and jerks a little as he feels her touch his cock. She caresses him and mutters, "I didn't realize..." as she strokes up and down.

He tries desperately to think of anything else that would delay his response yet not betray her, but nothing can displace the image of the girl in his arms, and he feels unbearably excited by her touch on his cock. "Veronica, slow down, please..." he finally begs.

She pulls her hand away startled.

"I'm going to explode if you keep touching me," he explains. He takes her hand and pulls it to his chest, so she can feel his heart beating. "Just give me a second to calm down." He kisses her again and whispers, "You're so beautiful, baby, so beautiful."

Her heart pounds for a moment as she realizes how intense it is for him. She never thought about how she affected him physically; it never occurred to her that she caused an actual reaction in his body, that she had that much control over him.

She takes his hand and brings it to her pussy. He looks into her eyes and she nods, saying, "Just..."

"I know," he answers, and he really does know this time. He knows that it can't be intense, it can't be epic; she's not ready for that yet. "Tell me if it's okay," he says, and he strokes her softly, just repeating a slow movement with a single finger, coaxing her to relax and enjoy his touch.

"Yesss," she replies, "feels so nice."

"We can just do this if you want," he says.

"I know." She does know: that he's willing to give her time, he'll put his needs on hold for her; and god it's incredible to know that, without a single doubt or fear to intrude on her pleasure.

He feels her increasing wetness and arousal, and he's surprised to find himself thinking _love did that, this isn't sex, this is love._

She asks, "Do we have...is there a condom?"

"If you're sure..."

She nods, and he reaches behind him for the bag they brought with them that day. For a second, he remembers all the elaborate positioning and mind-blowing fantasies that he had imagined that morning when he packed the bag, and he realizes he wouldn't trade the look on her face right now for the most exotic position in the Kama Sutra. Finally, he locates the condom and tears it open; with a couple quick strokes of his hand, he's hard enough again to put it on, but he's glad that his excitement is still slightly diminished so he can focus on her. She watches him, biting her lower lip, as he smoothes the condom, making sure it will protect her. He reaches for her and strokes her pussy again. "Touch me again," he says.

She caresses him and gently guides him to her. They look into each other's eyes, and he thrusts just the slightest amount and slips inside of her tightness. He concentrates on his breathing; he's never worked so hard to not move.

"Is it okay, why aren't you..." she says, then her breath hitches as he slowly moves out and in.

His voice strangled with the effort, he replies, "I'm trying to go slow, Veronica; are you okay?"

"Oh god, it's incredible," she answers as he begins to thrust gently. She moves against him, encouraging.

They continue their gentle rocking, their bodies rubbing together with the most beautiful friction, again and again, using the slight awkwardness of their side-by-side position to prolong and extend and control. Logan has never made love like this, never fucked a woman without trying to blow her mind, to shatter her under his ministrations, and he thinks _this is my first time, I'm a virgin at this._ He consciously slows himself, wishing this moment, this oscillating, tender joining, would go on and on.

Veronica begins to sigh and moan, bucking against him, and he can't help but match her will. With every cell of his body, he wants to scream that he loves her, loves her, loves her. But he knows...Veronica doesn't love easily, and this is just one more restraint in a night of them. He whispers instead, "You're beautiful, my perfect Veronica, so beautiful, Veronica," and wishes he had the courage to shout his love anyway.

"Logan," she cries, "oh, Logahhnnnn," as she trembles with a subtle, satisfying release that feels perfectly okay and is exactly all she wants right now.

He thrusts again several times and allows himself to go over, pulsating and throbbing inside her. He clutches her to him, hoping, praying to whatever gods there are that this is just the first time of many, and thanking those gods that they brought her back to him.

-----

In the morning, they wake with the sun. They get dressed and gather their belongings. Logan is pretty sure that they can row to another bay faster than they can hike to civilization, so they decide to take the dinghy and row towards the south, keeping the shoreline close by and using the current to help them progress. Veronica spells Logan at rowing, but he has to do the majority of it with his greater strength. When he's resting, he watches her row, observing her muscles rippling with the effort of keeping the boat even with the shoreline. She smiles back at him, and he melts with the joy of her easy happiness that's been so long missing.

After a few hours, they find a boat moored, and they call out, "Ahoy?" The boat's owners greet them and, upon hearing their story, invite them aboard, call the Harbor Patrol, and make them breakfast.

The wife asks them if they are on their honeymoon; when they respond "no, why do you ask?", she replies that "you just have that look." Logan smiles and kisses Veronica's cheek, and she blushes.

The Harbor Patrol contacts the Coast Guard which begins a search for the Echolls cruiser. A short time later they find out that there had been a previous complaint about the insecurity of their mooring, and the owner of the mooring, nervous about a lawsuit, offers to put them up at the Hotel Villa Portofino.

Their hosts offer to take them to Avalon, and Logan and Veronica accept gladly. At the Hotel Villa Portofino, they buy some replacement clothing in the gift shop and head up to their suite.

Logan offers to let Veronica take the first shower, but she shakes her head no, saying, "You're coming in with me."

For now, she's letting him love her. For right this moment, he's everything she needs. And who knows, someday it might even be more than just okay, it might even be epic.


End file.
